I remember endlessly discussing the controversial age of 26. A somewhat ambiguous age, it always seemed to spark debate over whether it fell amidst the dreaded late twenties, or laid calmly in the mid-twenties safety zone.

I settled on calling the debatable age an “upswing” to 30.

Now, only one week away from 28, there is no denying it. I have officially entered my late twenties. Life is still undetermined for me here, but I’m riding out my journey with a smile on.

In 28 years, I have learned…

• The world is small.
• Excuses and reasons are two different things, and now I can more easily distinguish one from the other.
• My siblings and I are more alike than I realized.

I have always thought of 17 as a lost age in one’s teenage years. While 10-year-olds have the excitement of entering double digits, sweet sixteens start driving and 18-year-olds officially become adults, that lonely age of 17 seems to get lost somewhere between Quinceaneras and legally purchasing a case of Bud Light for the first time. Now, here I am at 27 – 10 years older than the age that gets little credit besides from those famous lyrics of Abba’s “Dancing Queen” (only seventeen…) – and I wonder again about this number plopped between 25 and 30. Those of us who have made it to 27 already celebrated a quarter century of life and are officially on the upswing to beginning our third decade. Where does that leave us? Halfway between clinging desperately to our youth and happily embracing adulthood.

I have been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be “grown up”, a term we generally associate with adult-like things and an end to our youth. I am walking somewhat ungracefully along the thin line that separates childhood from adulthood, and am not quite sure what my criteria is for making it from one side to the other.

Regardless of whether we traveled, moved home or followed a job right after college, I believe we all reach a point after adjusting to the “real world” when we stop and think, what is it that I really want to do with my life?

In my completely unprofessional experience, I have noticed this shift typically happens between the ages of 24 and 27. Whether we realize we are heading down the totally wrong career path, are outliving our stay in a particular city, or are burnt out from the bar scene every weekend, the shift seems to reach each of us one way or another.

On my birthday this year, a friend observed that every new age in her twenties has seemed like a significantly “older” age than the year before. I immediately understood what she meant. I will be the first to say I had a hard time turning 20, due to the fact that it officially marked the end of my teenage years. The ever-so-popular age of 21 is a huge milestone for most Americans, proving a dramatic jump from age 20. We celebrate our “quarter century” birthday at the age of 25 and 26 begins the official upswing to 30.

As a child, it perplexed me when my parents could not remember what year they took a certain vacation, lived in a particular apartment, or had to pause for a moment to remember exactly how old their siblings are. Their response had always been that “the years just all start to blend together after awhile”.

The first time I consciously remember having this thought was while sitting in a hotel room on the way to Cape Cod in 1990. It was the first big family vacation our parents dared to take us on, and my dad blasted Raffi tapes the entire drive in hopes that the 12-hour road trip was not the worst decision he and my mom had made in their then six years of parenthood.

Oh my stars in heaven, how do apartments get so dusty? Is this why my mother used to clean so much all the time? Everywhere I look there are small collections of my cats fur, makeup powder in the cracks of the bathroom walls…dust in the fruit bowl!

Unfortunately for me, I find cleaning to be a complete and utter drag unless I am in a rare and special mood. There are so many more things I would rather do with my time. Even more unfortunate, I am starting to care if the apartment is a mess. Is this what growing up is about – being tidy and cleaning in my spare time? I certainly hope not.